


One Weeks Detention

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Language, Gen, M/M, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Slash, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-14
Updated: 2005-07-28
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:39:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10174007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: 6th year; H/D; Harry & Draco given a week of detention together-how will it turn out?; suck at summeries so please just read ^.^ M/M,Lemon,Anal,Oral





	1. One Weeks Detention

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**WARNINGS: *Sneaks up on JKR and points a wand at her* "Imperio! Mwahahahaha! Draco and Harry belong to me! What? What do you mean I'm holding a pencil? *Sigh* Oh well, it was worth a shot." (that means that none of 'em are mine-I just like to play with 'em!)**

**The Characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted on this website are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intented. No profit is being made off this site, and is for entertainment purposes only.**

**Also, later in this fic, there will be lots of SLASH-y goodness, so you've been forewarned-if you don't like it, don't read it and then flame it.**

**Rating: NC-17**

**Categories/Warnings: Slash, Romance, Some violence, Implied non-con, Anal, Oral**

**Spoilers: Books 1-5**

**Pairings: Harry/Draco**

**Summary: 6th year; H/D; Harry & Draco given a week of detention together-how will it turn out?**

Harry hurried up the moving staircases towards the Gryffindor Common Room. He’d forgotten his Potions text, and if he was late to class one more time- well, he didn’t want to think about it. He grabbed his book and ran to the dungeons. 

As he ran, Harry tried to pull his parchment and quill out of his bag, so he’d at least look somewhat prepared for class. He was just about to open the classroom door when he ran into someone- or did they run into him? -with enough force that it knocked them both to the ground. Harry scrambled to gather his things. “Watch it, Potter,” came the familiar sneer. 

“Why don’t you, Ferret Face? Maybe you need my glasses more than I do.” 

“My vision is perfect, just like the rest of me.” Harry snorted and walked into the classroom. 

There were only two chairs left, and they were both at the only empty workstation. Harry groaned and looked at Ron and Hermione, hoping that one of them would jump up and offer to change places with him. Instead, they both shot him a sympathetic smile. _Thanks a ton, guys,_ Harry thought sarcastically. 

“Mr. Potter.” Harry winced. “Unless you’ve found a way to surpass me at Potions and you can teach today’s lesson, I suggest you take your seat immediately.”

“Sorry, Professor Snape,” Harry said almost inaudibly as he slid into his seat next to Malfoy. 

*** 

“Was it awful?” 

"Of all the sixth years in Gryffindor and Slytherin, you got stuck with Malfoy.” Harry shot Ron a look. 

“Yeah, Ron. I know. Now, can we please not talk about it?” Even though Potions had continued without another incident, it wasn’t because Malfoy hadn’t tried to start one. It had taken all of Harry’s will power to not mess up his potion on purpose and force it down the blond’s throat. 

Ron and Hermione kept talking to him and asking him questions all the way to lunch as if he were paying attention to the conversation. When they reached the Great Hall, Harry ran head first into someone for the second time that day. “Potter, I swear that if you lay your hands on me again, involuntary or not, I will curse you into oblivion,” sneered Malfoy. 

“Sod off!” Harry yelled. “Just because your father sucks Voldemort off every night, doesn’t mean you can be all high and mighty! Having a _slut_ for a father isn’t something to be proud of!” The Great Hall seemed to freeze. Everyone, at one time or another had thought those exact thoughts about Draco Malfoy's father but none had dared to voice them. 

Draco’s hands balled into fists at his sides and his face flushed. “You should know!” he screamed back. “I hear your precious father had quite the reputation during his years here!” 

“At least my mother loved me and my father!”

Draco lunged at Harry, knocking him to the ground. Harry tried to flip him over but he’d been taken by surprise and Draco had more leverage.

Still, Harry wasn’t about to let him beat the bloody hell out of him. He drew his fist back and let loose, taking a perverse satisfaction in the loud _crack_ that came from the breaking of Malfoy’s nose. Suddenly the weight that was on his stomach was lifted off of him, and he was roughly pulled to his feet by the collar of his robes. 

“One hundred points from Gryffindor,” Professor Snape stated. Draco sneered. “And fifty from Slytherin,” he added. Draco’s jaw dropped. 

“But Professor Snape! Potter started to-“ 

Snape held his hand up to stop Draco from saying anything else. “Slytherins, Mr. Malfoy, are better than that.” 

Draco’s head dropped a little. “Yes, sir.” 

“One week of detention for you both. Be in my classroom by seven.” 

“But we have Quidditch practice tonight!” Ron protested. 

“I suggest you keep your mouth shut unless you care to join them. Mr. Potter will lose nothing by missing _one_ practice.” Harry watched Snape stalk off, robes billowing behind him. 

“Nice going, Ferret.” 

“Sod off, Weasel.” 

“Both of you sod off,” Harry said abruptly as he stormed out of the Great Hall, Ron and Hermione gaping after him.

**Author's Notes: This fic originally was posted on AFF. It still is, I just want different opinions, and so I'm going to post it here. As with all of my stories, the more ya'll R &R, the quicker and more often my updates will be ^.^ And just as a final warning: My plot bunnies did _NOT_ write this...it's all the evil heffalump's work!  
**


	2. Detention #1

Harry stormed into Gryffindor Tower seething with rage and with a look on his usually friendly face that dared someone to speak to him. He stalked to his dorm, ignoring the looks of shock, flung himself down on his bed, and closed the curtains around him. 

_Gods, what is with me? I’ve never provoked Malfoy to that extent before! Where did it come from? Then snapping at Ron?_ Harry thought with a groan. He was going to have a lot of apologizing to do that night. He flung his arm over his eyes and tried to block the world out, but when the bell sounded to signal the end of lunch, it brought Harry back to reality. He considered skiving off Transfiguration, but he quickly dismissed the temptation. Ron and Hermione would ask even more questions than he cared to listen to if he did. He dragged himself off of his bed and to class. 

*** 

Classes had gone smoothly. Dinner, though, was a different story. True to Harry’s guess, his two best friends bombarded him with questions about the events at lunch. 

“Where’d that come from, Harry?” 

“Dunno, ‘Mione,” he answered dully. 

“What did you mean by ‘both of you sod off’? I was only trying to help, mate.” 

”I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Was Potions horrible?” Harry shrugged. 

“It was okay.” 

“He didn’t try anything?” 

“No, Ron, he didn’t.” Harry hated lying to his best friends but he also didn’t want to go into what actually was said that morning. 

 

***FLASHBACK*** 

_“How’s your Godfather, Potter?” Harry flinched._

_“Fuck off.”_

_“Tsk tsk, Potter, such language. I was just trying to have a friendly conversation with you.” The fake innocence that was in Malfoy’s voice made Harry’s stomach turn but he was determined not to show it. “Fine, then. Forget Sirius.” Harry’s heart clenched. He wished he could forget. “How was your summer? Mine was brilliant, like always,” he continued as if Harry had answered his question. “I spent a great deal of time with my mum in Paris. I really got to know her. Did you know she used to be great friends with your mum? Ironic, isn’t it? They shared everything- well, except Father. He wouldn’t think of touching a filthy Mudblood. Yet you and I can’t even share a simple conversation. I just think that...” Malfoy continued to babble on as Harry tried his damnedest not to listen and to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall._

***END FLASHBACK*** 

“Hello? What’s wrong, mate? You looked as though a bunch of Death Eaters just walked in.” 

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking. Listen, I’m going to drop my bag off before detention. Don’t stay up waiting for me. I don't know when Snape will let me go back to Gryffindor Tower." He knew his friends wouldn’t listen and that they’d be fully awake and in the common room waiting for him, no matter how late he returned from his detention. Harry hurried out of the Great Hall, the memories of that morning still haunting him. 

*** 

Draco watched Potter leave the Great Hall as though the Dark Lord himself had just Apparated into Hogwarts. He waited a few minutes and then left as well. _Damn bloody Boy-Who-Won’t-Fucking-Die! Why couldn’t he have just kept his bloody mouth shut? He’s going to pay for making me break my date to scrub bloody cauldrons all night!_ thought Draco angrily. 

Draco stalked through the castle towards the dungeons. He didn’t want to make his House Head even angrier by being late. He sauntered into the room at 6:58 P.M. and sat down at the front of the room, smirking to himself that he’d even beat Snape there. 

Professor Snape entered his classroom at precisely 7:00 and sat at his desk. “Where is Potter?” 

“I don’t know. I’m not his keeper, sir,” Draco smoothly replied. 

Seconds later, Potter burst through the doors. He took a moment to compose himself and then, as eloquently as he could, he walked to sit down at the table behind Draco. Snape glared at Harry for a moment before speaking. 

“Your behavior this afternoon, gentlemen, was deplorable. I’m especially disappointed in you, Mr. Malfoy. You both let your anger get the best of you and as the consequence, you will serve detention here every night this week at this time. Turn your wands over to me; you won’t be needing them.” Both wizards did as they were told. “Your detention, boys, is to sit here from now until midnight and have a civilized conversation.” Draco jumped out of his seat. 

“You're off your rocker, Professor!” he protested. 

“You will watch your tone with me, Mr. Malfoy! Now sit down.” He waited until his student had lowered himself back into the chair before he continued. “You will sit here without fighting until midnight. For every fistfight you get yourselves into, add another day of detention. Every night you will turn your wands in and pick up where you left off the night before.” Snape stood. “The door is warded and I don’t suggest trying to leave just to see what the consequences are. Good night, gentlemen.” Both boys watched their Potions Master disappear through the door to their left. 

Harry put his head down on the table and groaned. “What did I do to deserve this?” 

“You insulted a Malfoy,” was the cold reply. Harry’s head shot up. 

“How? I only told the truth!” Draco drew his fist back to hit Harry. 

“Are you that thick, Ferret? Snape will know. He always knows.” Draco dropped his fist and sighed. Even though he would never admit it out loud, he knew his childhood enemy was right. 

They sat in silence for the rest of the night, Draco sitting, legs crossed, while drumming his fingers impatiently on the table, and Harry sitting in his chair Indian-style with his forehead resting on his arms on the workstation in front of him. 

At exactly midnight, Professor Snape came back through the door at the left side of the classroom with their wands in his hand. “Not one word out of either of you for five hours? I believe my instructions were to converse with each other. Another night of detention for both of you for not being able to follow a simple instruction,” the Potion Master said as he handed their wands over to them.

Harry wasn’t sure why, exactly, his detention with Malfoy had made him think of Sirius again, but it had and even though he’d suppressed the tears for six and a half months, the pain this time was too great for Harry to control. Harry snatched his wand from Snape and ran from the classroom before the tears that were welling up in his eyes fell. 

He knew Ron and Hermione were waiting up for him; they always did, so when he saw Ron practicing chess strategies by himself and ‘Mione curled up on the couch with her nose in a book as he climbed through the portrait hole, Harry simply laid down on the couch and put his head in his best friend’s lap without saying a word.

Hermione put her book down and gently ran her fingers through Harry’s unruly hair as Ron lifted Harry’s legs, sat down and then draped them back over his own. Harry let his tears flow freely. 

The Trio sat like that into the wee hours of the morning. Eventually, Harry’s sobs subsided and his breathing evened out as he drifted off into sleep. Ron looked worriedly at his best friend. “I wonder what happened?” 

“I don’t know. But I’m worried about him. He’s been really out of sorts lately. Can you get him upstairs?” Ron nodded and picked Harry up effortlessly. Over the years, Ron grew to be at least four inches taller than Harry and, though he was still lanky, he was very strong. He put Harry into his bed, spelled him into his pajamas and closed the curtains around his bed, sealing them with a locking and silencing charm for him.


	3. Detention #3 (Harry)

Harry didn’t wait for Snape to take their wands the next night before he began speaking to Malfoy. “What were you going to say yesterday before Snape came in, Malfoy?” he demanded. 

Malfoy looked up at him from his usual seat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Golden Boy,” he calmly replied. 

“Bull shit.” 

“Are you accusing me of lying?” 

“Yes,” Harry spat. 

“I’m offended, Potter.” 

“I don’t give a shit, Malfoy. Tell me what you were going to say.” 

Draco stood, approached Harry and stood nose to nose with him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter,” he snarled through clenched teeth, “but if you don’t move onto another subject, I’ll be forced to try out Weaselette’s infamous Bat Bogey Hex on you.” 

Something stirred inside Harry. During his normal spats with Malfoy, he’d stare directly into the blond’s grey eyes. But this time, he couldn’t take his eyes off the Slytherin’s lips. They were full and tinged pink. Even when the boy was dead serious, his mouth curved at the corners into a slight smirk. Harry darted his own tongue out unconsciously and ran it across his own lips as pictures of what he suddenly wanted to do to the boy in front of him flashed in his mind: grabbing Malfoy’s slim hips and pulling his body flush against his own, staring into the mercury-colored pools, raising his lips to the taller boy’s and-

“Wands, gentlemen.” Both quickly stepped away from the other and handed over their wands. When Snape disappeared through the door, Harry sat at his usual spot and dropped his forehead directly onto the table. _What the hell was that all about? I’ve gone bonkers. Yeah, that’s it. Feeling like I wanted to kiss Malfoy was from lack of sleep or something._ Unable to convince even himself, Harry picked his head up off the table a bit and let it drop back down. Malfoy looked up in surprise. 

“Erm...not that I’m an expert or anything, Potter, but self mutilation is supposedly bad for you.” Harry picked his head up just enough to rest his chin on the cool surface and glared. 

“Why do you care? Never mind. If I hurt me, where’s the fun for you, right?” 

“I don’t get you, Potter. You’re The Boy Who Bloody Lived. You have every man, woman and child swooning at your feet and you get away with murder.” Harry flinched at the last word. 

“And? What, exactly, is your point, Malfoy?” 

“You should be-I don’t know-happy, but instead you go around acting like you’ve sat on your broom the wrong way.” 

“Happy? You think that I should be happy with my life?!” Harry said angrily. “Let’s go over why I should be happy, then! My parents died because of me. Sirius, the only father I ever met but never really got to know, died because of me. Cedric, an innocent student, died because of me! Alice and Frank Longbottom are sitting in St. Mungo’s, out of their minds, because of ME! My two best friends in the whole world have been almost killed no less than six times and know the layout of the infirmary like the back of their hands because of me. I wake up everyday, Malfoy, wondering who is going to be tortured or die that day because it’s not the bloody day that I’m supposed to turn into a murderer!” 

“But-“ 

“No "buts" Malfoy! I’m fucking responsible for it! For them! Me, Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Bloody Fucking Lived!” Malfoy stood, walked to Harry and slapped him across his cheek lightly, but still hard enough for it to sting. Harry’s jaw dropped. “What the hell are you doing? You’re going to get us another detention! I don’t want to spend another bloody night with you, Malfoy!” 

“Just shut up, Potter,” he screamed back at Harry, “and snap the fuck out of it! Voldemort, not you, killed your parents! He would have killed them whether you were born or not! Sirius decided to follow you to the Ministry that night, and it was my Aunt Bella that attacked him, not you! Diggory shouldn’t have died, but that wasn’t your fault either; Voldemort said those words! Frank and Alice were, again, Aunt Bella’s doing, Potter. In fact, you probably saved their lives by being born because if they didn’t want information, they would have just AK’d them! Your friends _choose_ to follow you into battle, Potter! I watch you! You plead with them to stay behind but they’re too stupid to listen to you! They know the consequences, Harry!” Harry was stunned, though he wasn’t sure which stunned him more: Malfoy’s outburst claiming he wasn’t to blame for any of it or Malfoy calling him by his first name. Either way, he found himself, for the first time in six years, wishing that Professor Snape would make an appearance. Harry wasn’t that lucky. 

“It doesn’t matter who yelled what curse or who physically attacked whom, Malfoy,” Harry responded. His voice was soft now, barely above a whisper. He was tired of fighting. “Those curses and those shoves were said and done because I simply exist.” 

“Don’t be stupid, Potter. If you didn’t exist, Voldemort would never have been stopped.” 

“Neville would have done it,” he said before he realized it. Harry groaned. Only Ron knew about the Prophecy and the implications behind it. _Now you’ve done it, Potter,_ he chided himself. _You might as well have just gone and told him._

“Longbottom!” Draco exclaimed, laughing so hard he was clutching his side. “You really _are_ thicker than Crabbe and Goyle! What in Merlin’s name possessed you to say that?” 

“Nothing. Never mind,” Harry said quickly, praying that Malfoy would drop the subject. Harry, again, wasn’t that lucky. 

“Don’t lie to me, Potter. You were the one who opened your mouth about it.” Harry looked at his classmate in surprise. _Who does he think he is? Oh, yeah. Draco Malfoy._ Harry scowled inwardly. 

“Forget what I said, Malfoy,” Harry spat. “I don’t have to justify anything to anyone, least of all you.” 

Much to Harry’s relief, Snape strode into the classroom at that moment and handed their wands back to them, “Good night, gentlemen.” The boys left the classroom without another word. Harry lingered to watch Malfoy for a moment. He took in the sight of the blond’s tall, slim frame and, much to Harry’s surprise, the way his hips swayed, ever so slightly, as he walked away. Harry blinked a few times to bring himself back to reality then continued towards Gryffindor Tower. 

*** 

Harry brushed his friends off that night, promising to give them the full details in the morning, before making his way to the dorm. 

He climbed into his bed and closed the curtains before Ron could start to question him. That night’s detention stirred a lot of emotions inside of Harry and he needed to get them under control before he could bring himself to speak about any of it.

**Author's Notes: I know you'll kill me for that little tease but that's all right! ^.^ R &R and all that jazz!  
**


	4. Detention #3 (Draco)

Draco strolled into the Potions classroom that night, early as usual. Potter stormed in and was speaking before the doors had even closed behind him. 

“What were you going to say before Snape came in, Malfoy?” 

Draco looked up at the black haired boy. _He’s sexy when he’s riled up. Wait! No! That last thought did not just happen!_ “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Golden Boy.” His reply was cold and deliberate. Draco knew he couldn’t tell the Gryffindor what he’d really wanted to say without letting his mask slip again, so he lied. 

“Bull shit.” 

Draco put on a very fake look of hurt. “I’m offended, Potter.” 

“I don’t give a shit, Malfoy. Tell me what you were going to say.” 

Draco stood, approached Potter and stood nose to nose with him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter. But if you don’t move onto another subject, I’ll be forced to try out Weaselette’s infamous Bat Bogey Hex on you.” 

Draco was surprised by the coldness in his own voice. He, in fact, was feeling nothing at the moment, let alone anger. _Why do you care what you sound like? Its just Potter! And he expects you to be nasty. Besides, it would start a topic of conversation that you’re not comfortable with starting if you were suddenly civil towards him. But he-“_

“Wands, gentlemen.” He stepped away from Potter, handed over his wand, and sat down in his seat. A minute later, he heard a thud. His head snapped up to find that the thud was Potter’s head against the worktable. 

“Erm...not that I’m an expert or anything, Potter, but self mutilation is supposedly bad for you.” The other boy rested his chin on the table and glared at the blond. 

“Why do you care?” _‘Cause it’s no fun for me if you hurt yourself, Potter._ “Never mind. If I hurt me, where’s the fun for you, right?” Draco was taken aback at Potter’s comment being so close to his own thoughts. 

“I don’t get you, Potter. You’re the Boy Who Bloody Lived. You have every man, woman and child swooning at your feet and you get away with murder.” _Did he just flinch? Why? Oh, yeah. Too late to take it back now._

“And? What, exactly, is your point, Malfoy?” His voice was cold and it shocked Draco that Potter could sound so Malfoy-ish. 

“You should be-I don’t know-happy.” _Did I just say that?_

“Instead, you go around acting like you’ve sat on your broom the wrong way.” Draco saw the Gryffindor’s pupils dilate turning his eyes almost completely black, with only a sliver of green outlining them. _Oh, shit._

“Happy? You think I should be happy with my life?! Lets go over why I should be happy, then! My parents died because of me. Sirius, the only father I ever met but never really got to know died because of me. Cedric, an innocent student, died because of me! Alice and Frank Longbottom are sitting in St. Mungo’s, out of their minds, because of ME! My two best friends in the whole world have almost been killed no less than six times and know the layout of the infirmary like the back of their hands because of me. I wake up everyday, Malfoy, wondering who is going to be tortured or die that day because it’s not the bloody day that I’m supposed to turn into a murderer!” 

_What the hell is he talking about?_ “But-“ 

“No “buts” Malfoy! I’m fucking responsible for it! For them! Me, Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Bloody Fucking Lived!” Draco had had enough. He stood, walked up to Potter and slapped him with a satisfying smack. “What the hell are you doing? You’re going to get us another detention! I don’t want to spend another bloody night with you, Malfoy!” _What’s so bad about spending a night with me?_ He mentally shook himself and spoke. 

“Just shut up, Potter, and snap the fuck out of it! Voldemort, not you, killed your parents! He would have killed them whether you were born or not! Black decided to follow you to the Ministry that night, and it was my Aunt Bella that attacked him, not you! Diggory shouldn’t have died, but that wasn’t your fault either; Voldemort said those words! Frank and Alice were, again, Aunt Bella’s doing, Potter. In fact, you probably saved their lives by being born because if they didn’t want information, they would have just AK’d them! Your friends choose to follow you into battle, Potter! I watch you! You plead with them to stay behind but they’re too stupid to listen to you! They know the consequences, Harry!” _I didn’t just do that,_ any _of that. What’s gotten into me? First I’m telling Golden Boy that he’s not at fault for something, and then I call him by his first name? Snape where are you?_

When Potter began to speak again, his voice was so low that Draco had to strain to hear him. “It doesn’t matter who yelled what curse or who physically attacked whom, Malfoy. Those curses and those shoves were said and done because I simply exist.” 

“Don’t be stupid, Potter. If you didn’t exist, Voldemort would never have been stopped.” _Shit. You stupid, thick-headed, arse! Why’d you-_

“Neville would have done it.” _Huh?_

“Longbottom!” Draco couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “You really _are_ thicker than Crabbe and Goyle! What in Merlin’s name possessed you to say that?” 

“Nothing. Never mind,” Harry said quickly, too quickly. Enough so that it piqued Draco's curiosity.

“Don’t lie to me, Potter. You’re the one who opened your mouth about it.” 

“Forget what I said, Malfoy. I don’t have to justify anything to anyone, least of all you.” _How dare he!_   
Snape walked in and handed their wands back. Draco left without saying anything else and started for the Slytherin Common Room. He hoped no one would still be awake; he had a lot to think about, and he didn’t feel up to having ten other people around just staring at him. 

*** 

Thankfully, the common room was empty. Malfoy stretched himself out along the black leather couch and put his hands behind his head. _Longbottom? The boy can’t even walk without almost killing everyone around him!_ Draco smirked to himself as he remembered the chain reaction the clumsy Gryffindork had caused on his way to the Great Hall for dinner the night before and he actually laughed out loud at the mental image of Longbottom, Finnegan, Thomas and Brown in a heap on the floor. 

As he entered his dorm and climbed into bed, Draco pushed all thoughts of Potter and the detention from his mind. He spelled his bed hangings locked and fell into a peaceful sleep. 

**Author's Notes: Here is your next chapter. ^.^ It's the same detention as the last chapter but from Draco's POV. R &R ^.~ Many thanks to my wonderful beta, as always ^.^   
**


	5. Hogsmead

It was, thankfully, Saturday. Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast that morning still dreading the onslaught of questions he’d undoubtedly face from his friends but reveling in the fact that it was a Hogsmeade weekend. He could spend the day out of the castle and as far away from Malfoy as humanly possible. 

He sat down between Ron and Hermione, loaded his plate with scrambled eggs, sausage and toast, and proceeded to shovel it in his mouth as if the house elves would make it disappear if he didn’t. It wasn’t until that moment that Harry realized how little he had eaten in the past few days and the effect it was having on him. 

Ron looked at him, surprised that someone could give his own stomach capacity a run for its money. Hermione looked disgusted. “What is it?” Harry asked through a mouthful of food. 

“Besides your gross eating habits?” Harry nodded. “Well, you could start with what happened last night.” Harry swallowed and opened his mouth to answer as an owl dropped a letter in front of him. He read it through quickly, set it aside and continued to eat. 

“What’s it say, mate?” Harry tossed the note to his friend and Ron read it out loud. 

“Mister Potter, it has come to my attention that your rather emotional detentions have taken their toll. Therefore, I am canceling your detention for tonight. Be back in my classroom at seven, sharp, tomorrow night. Professor S. Snape.” 

“’Taken their toll’?” Hermione questioned. Harry shrugged. 

“Malfoy must have lied about something or other. I’m not going to worry about it.” 

“But what if it’s _from_ Malfoy? You could get into a lot of trouble for skiving off a detention!” 

 

“He got the note too. I looked after I read mine.” 

“What happened last night, Harry?” 

“Not here, ‘Mione.” Hermione glanced around her two friends to see almost every head turned towards the trio trying to confirm any or all of the rumors that had started. She nodded her acknowledgement to Harry and they continued to eat their breakfast while talking about their Transfiguration homework. 

*** 

They left the castle with the rest of the students to go to Hogsmead and headed straight for The Three Broomsticks. 

They chose a table near the back corner of the pub and ordered three butterbeers. “So what happened, mate?” 

“Wait,” Hermione interrupted. She waved her wand under the table and muttered a quick spell. 

“What’d you do?” 

“It's a type of silencing charm, but with this one, people around us will hear a conversation about our homework.” Both of her friends looked at her bewildered. “What? Oh honestly! You two should know that one by now! It’s going to be on our NEWTs!” 

“Those are still a year and a half away, ‘Mione!” Ron exclaimed. “And that bit of magic isn’t taught until the very end of seventh year!” 

“So? It’s just one less thing I’ll have to struggle with.” Harry rolled his eyes at her and snorted. “What?” she demanded. 

“’Mione, the day _you_ struggle with school work is the day Crabbe and Goyle are announced Valedictorians!” She blushed at the comment. 

“Thank you but petty flattery won’t get you out of answering Ron’s question.” 

As promised, Harry gave his friends every detail of his detention, except for his daydream. He figured that it wasn’t that important and that his friends didn’t want to hear that anyway. 

“You should go to Professor Dumbledore, Harry.” 

“Why?” 

“Because maybe you cans serve the rest of your detentions separate from Malfoy.” Harry shook his head. 

“It’s fine, ‘Mione. It’s okay. I mean, he doesn’t insult or bother us anymore, so some good is coming out of it.” 

“But you’re upset by it all, Harry!” 

“So? Detention isn’t supposed to be a pleasant thing, ‘Mione. Beside, if I go to Dumbledore, Malfoy wins. I’ll just tough it out and maybe if I can make him let his guard down enough, he’ll let some useful information about Voldemort slip out.” Hermione considered this for a moment. She didn’t have a real reason as to why Harry should serve his detentions alone, just a gut feeling. But she knew that if Harry felt there was information to gain, she’d lose the argument no matter what, so she just gave in. 

“If you say so, Harry.” 

“What else happened, Harry?” 

“Nothing. Except...” 

“Except what?” 

“I sort of let ‘Neville’ slip,” Harry stated quickly. Ron’s eyes grew as big as Dobby’s. 

“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked suspiciously. “What are you two keeping from me?” 

“Nothing, ‘Mione. Well, something but not intentionally. It’s just that you were on holiday with your parents all summer and the school year so far has been really hectic and-" 

“Just spit it out, Harry!” 

Harry drew in a deep breath and began to talk. He told his best friend of the prophecy, the fact that Neville could have been The Boy Who Lived just as easily as Harry because of his parents and his birthday and the fact that Voldemort chose him, not Neville. He told her about his and Professor Dumbledore’s conversation the night they returned from the Ministry. “The prophecy,” he said softly, “basically ended in ‘murder or be murdered.'” 

“Oh Harry! I’m so sorry!” 

“For what, ‘Mione? You didn’t do anything. You didn’t write it or make that lunatic kill my parents.” _Why does that sound like what Malfoy said last night?_

“Why didn’t you tell us that night, Harry?” 

“How? I’d just lost Sirius and was just told that to have a chance at a normal life, I’d have to become a murderer. I could barely process it, let alone talk about it.” Harry sighed. “I just wasn’t ready.” Hermione nodded. 

“Lets head back to the castle,” she suggested as she removed her spell from around them. 

Harry just nodded. He was at odds with himself. On one hand, he felt like a big weight had been lifted from him by telling Hermione everything. He’d longed to pull her aside one night since the start of term but never had the heart to tell the girl he thought of as his sister that it was likely he’d have to kill someone before they graduated. 

On the other hand, Harry felt bad for telling either of his friends. Something inside of him insisted that Ron and Hermione were now in even more danger because of him, and that didn’t sit well with him. 

*** 

After only a few hours of playing chess with Ron in the common room, Harry grew restless. “I’m going for a walk,” Harry announced to his friends. 

“We’ll come with you. Just let me-“ 

“No. It’s okay, ‘Mione. I’d rather go alone.” He got up and started towards the portrait hole. “I’ll be okay,” he added when he saw her worried look. 

She gave him a weak smile and nodded as he left the common room.

*** 

He’d been walking for quite a few minutes when he knocked against another student’s shoulder. “Watch it!” 

Harry groaned. _Not now. Why now?_ “Go away, Malfoy,” he said with no real emotion. 

“Get new glasses, Potter. Purposefully abusing another student physically can get you expelled.” Harry shot a dirty look at the Slytherin. 

“If I wanted to physically abuse you, Malfoy, you’d have to take your NEWTs in the hospital wing. Now move so that I can look at something other than your beady, rodent-like eyes!” Harry spat as he moved to push past the taller boy. Malfoy stepped into Harry’s path. 

“Not until you apologize,” he declared. 

“Apologize? For what?” Malfoy plastered his infamous smirk across his lips. 

“For landing me in a week’s worth of detention, for saying horrid things about my father in front of the whole school, for getting him sent to Azkaban, for-“ 

“Shut up, Malfoy! You threw the first punch! If you hadn’t, neither of us would be in detention! The things I said about Lucius, true or not, don’t even _compare_ to how horrible of a person he really is! And it’s because he’s such a horrible bastard that he’s in Azkaban! If he didn’t want to be there, then maybe he should have thought twice about blindly following a raving lunatic!” Malfoy’s eyes darkened to a stormy grey as those words flew past Harry’s lips. Harry noticed but didn’t care; Malfoy had finally added the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. “And beside that, Malfoy,” Harry continued, “I thought that Malfoy’s despise half-bloods!” 

“We do,” Draco snarled; his teeth were clenched tight and his hands were balled into such tight fists that he could feel his finger nails cutting into his palms. 

“Voldemort’s father was a Muggle! Did you know that, Malfoy?! He grew up in a _Muggle_ orphanage because his father didn’t want him because he was a wizard! So in order to have your ‘supreme race’, Malfoy, you’d have to kill Voldemort himself!” 

Draco paled slightly. _How could that be? The Dark Lord is the most powerful dark wizard in history! Surely Father would have told me all of this! Right?_

Harry watched Malfoy’s mask almost slip several times. After a few seconds, the blond placed it firmly back in place and spoke with a spite in his voice that Harry had never heard him use before. “My father, Potter, is a good man. He takes care of my mum and me and puts us before anything else. He loves us.” 

“Love doesn’t make you a good person, Malfoy! And if he loves you so much, why won’t he put you as a priority before he puts Voldemort?” 

“You’re daft! The Dark Lord would kill Father if he ever did that!” 

“Exactly,” Harry replied calmly. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“My parents died to keep me safe, Malfoy. Yours put you in danger so that _they_ can stay alive.” Malfoy’s jaw dropped in a very undignified way. Satisfied with this result (and knowing that the chances of stunning Draco Malfoy speechless again were slim to none), Harry put his best imitation of the Malfoy Smirk on and pushed past the blond boy.

 

**Author's Notes: No detention, but they still have 5 left and they're going to be interesting. I apologize to my readers for lack of smut. R &R  
**


	6. Detention #4

Draco walked into his detention the next night in an overly foul mood. Even though what Potter had said to him the night before made some sense (after he’d gotten several migraines from trying to rationalize Lucius’ behavior), it had still ticked Draco off that he’d actually _said_ it.

It also baffled him. No one had ever had the guts to say what he knew they were all thinking. Potter didn’t either until four days ago. Did his little game in Potions that day piss him off that much? Draco had done it just to get a rise out of the Golden Boy. He’d assumed that since Potter had only even just learned about Black in their third year, that he wasn’t very attached to him.

Potter and Snape entered the room at the same time. “Wands,” Snape drawled.

When the Potion’s Master left, Draco stated, “I don’t have anything to stay to you, Potter.”

“Well find something. I’m not spending any more time with you than absolutely necessary.”

“If I don’t have anything to say, then what, exactly, do you expect me to do, Potter?”

“I don’t know, Malfoy. Just...ask me questions or something.”

Draco sighed and tried to think of a question. After a minute, his eyes lit up and The Smirk appeared. He knew his question would either cause the Gryffindor to get so embarrassed that he’d hardly be able to speak or he’d take Draco seriously, answer the question and therefore give Draco information he could use to embarrass Potter later, anyway. “All right, Potter. Here’s my question to you: Do you masturbate?” Harry’s head snapped up in disbelief.

“What?”

“Do. You. Wank. Off?” Draco drawled each word dramatically.

“What kind of fucked up question is that? And why would masturbation be in the same thought as me in _your_ head anyway?” He was flustered and blushing. Draco smirked.

“It’s just a question,” he answered innocently. “You never put up boundaries.”

“Well...I refuse to answer! So pick another question.”

“I just asked one!”

“Fine! Do you have any tattoos?”

“You mean a skull with a snake for a tongue on the underside of my forearm.” It was a statement-Draco didn’t have to ask what the other boy had meant. “Why would I tell you that? If the answer is yes, then you’ll run and tell Dumbledore and it’ll just be another reason for everyone to hate me. If the answer is no, you won’t believe me anyway and people will make fun of me for not taking it yet.”

“Since when have you cared what people think about you? And, for the record, I think the answer is no.”

“Why would you think that?” the blond snapped.

“For one, Dumbledore would know and he wouldn’t let you stay in school. There’s the fact that when you told me that if I’d never been born Voldemort never would have been stopped, you sounded like you wanted him to be stopped, like you weren’t disappointed in my existence, if only for that reason. And I don’t think you could kill someone. I think you’re a mean, nasty, spoiled, stuck-up arse, but not a murderer.”

Draco looked stunned. Did he really say that to Potter? Did he really radiate those emotions by doing so? He never meant to, of course. But what was done was done and he now went into damage control mode. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter. That old coot wouldn’t know anything had changed. And as for my abilities to kill someone-was that a challenge?”

“And your feelings about Voldemort?”

“What about them?”

“What are they?”

“That’s none of your bloody business, Scarhead,” the blond snarled.

“Drop the act, Malfoy! Do you really think I’m going to go blabbing every word you say to me to the entire school?” Harry was angry that Malfoy didn’t trust him, even though that wasn’t very logical-it was Malfoy he was talking about-why would he trust Harry?

“No,” Draco stated matter-of-factly. Harry blinked. “You’ll only tell the Mudblood and Weasel. _They_ will tell the entire school.”

“No they would not!” Harry yelped. Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “Well...well ‘Mione wouldn’t!”

“And Weasel?”

“He’d only tell the rest of the sixth year Gryffindor boys. But that’s still not the rest of the school!” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Might as well be. Longbottom is quiet enough but...hey! What’d you mean the other day? Longbottom would have done what?”

“I...well, it’s just...I mean...” Harry stammered. Then he grinned confidently. “I’ll answer that question when you answer my questions.”

Draco looked stunned, again. “Very cunning, Potter. You could have made a great Slytherin.”

“You’re right-I could have.” Again, Draco raised an eyebrow at the Gryffindor. “An answer for an answer, Malfoy. You answer my question about tattoo’s and I’ll explain what I meant about my last comment.” Draco sighed in defeat. As much as he fought it, his curiosity got the best of him.

“No. No Dark Mark.” He pulled his sleeve up and barred his forearm to his childhood enemy to prove it. “Your turn.”

“The Sorting Hat almost put me into Slytherin,” Harry stated simply. “It said I’d do great there but I begged it to put me in any other house. It chose Gryffindor.” For the fourth time in less than twenty-four hours, Draco Malfoy was stunned.

“But it reads what’s in your head...not what you want. It-“

“-Doesn’t work that way,” Harry finished. “Yeah. I know. ‘Mione said the same thing.”

“So why’d you beg it not to?” Harry shrugged.

“Hagrid told me horrid things about Slytherins. Then how you acted in Madam Malkin’s and on the train...acting like an arse all the time just didn’t appeal to me.”

“And being a goody-goody did?” Draco snorted. “That’s hard to believe, Potter. Aside from your alleged bravery, you act like a Slytherin more than half of our year!”

“Thanks...I think. And what appealed to me was being with my new friends, if you really want to know.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Right. So what’s your next question then, Potter?”

Harry thought carefully for a moment, and then asked, “What do the dementors make you hear?” Draco flinched just slightly.

“That...that’s not something I’ve ever told anyone and I certainly don’t intend to start with you.”

“Why not?”

“Blood thick-headed Gryffindor,” Draco muttered. “We’ve been through this already, Potter. I don’t fancy having the whole school knowing such things about me. And aside from that, if the school knows, how much time do you think it’ll take for any and all information to get back to my father and, in turn, Voldemort?”

“Well then what if we make a deal. Anything and absolutely everything that we say in these detentions stays between us. If you tell anyone anything, I get a free shot and vice versa. The only conditions on the free shot are you can’t use an Unforgivable and it has to be something that will appear to be a normal accident to Madam Pomfrey.”

Draco considered everything that the other boy just said. _What do you have to lose, Malfoy? He blabs, he winds up in the Infirmary retching for a week..._ The Smirk appeared on Draco’s lips as he extended his hand towards his childhood enemy. Harry grasped it firmly. “Deal, Potter.”

“Deal. Now answer the question.” Draco hesitated for a minute.

“My mum,” he whispered.

Harry cocked his head to one side in confusion. “Your mum?”

“There’s a _reason_ why I haven’t taken The Mark yet, Potter.”

“And that reason would be...” Draco shook his head.

“I was supposed to take it at the beginning of last year but my mum didn’t want me to. Actually, she’d have rather my father not follow the Dark Lord anymore and go into hiding. Anyway, she told me not to worry about it, that she’d take care of it. I went home that weekend, as planned, so no one would suspect anything and Mum went in front of Him and begged for him not to mark me because I was so young.” Draco took a deep, calming breath-he would not cry in front of the bloody Boy Who Lived. “He put her under the Imperious and made her...do things to all the Death Eaters...” Harry watched the blond boy as he seemed slip into a daydream (nightmare?). “I could tell she was trying to fight it but...how could she?” Draco shuddered slightly. “After she’d finished with them, he performed Crucio on her. He’d keep it on her for minutes...after four or five times...I don’t know...I guess he got...bored.” Draco spat the last word out as if he were spitting on Voldemort himself. His voice got very quiet after that. “I wanted to go to her, to help her...if they’d just left, I could have...I promised her that I’d never go near one of those meetings if I could help it...” The anger began to flood back into the blond’s body and his breathing became more ragged.

“I’m sorry I asked...”

“I don’t need pity, Potter.”

“It’s not pity, Malfoy! I’m sorry I asked because, obviously, I just made you relive that memory. That wasn’t my intention.”

“How was that not your intention? You asked the bloody question! What do they make you hear, then?”

“My mum the night Voldemort killed her and my dad. That’s why I asked. I can’t actually remember that night so I just sort of assumed that you wouldn’t actually remember yours, either.”

“So you expect me to believe that if you’d known that I actually remember the time that the dementors make me hear, you wouldn’t have asked that question?” Draco found that hard to believe.

“Why would I? That’s a horrible memory that is probably on your mind everyday. I don’t like to hurt people, Malfoy. Even you don’t deserve that.” Draco blinked. Did he just hear that correctly?

“Come off it, Potter. Your little act doesn’t fool me. If you rally thought that I didn’t deserve to be hurt, you wouldn’t have said anything to me in the past four days.”

“I never said you don’t deserve pain, Malfoy. You deserved the slap ‘Mione threw at you third year, for example, but the things I’ve said weren’t to hurt you. And if they _did_ hurt you, then I’m sorry. But don’t you think that there has to be some truth to it all if most everyone in the wizarding world sees and thinks it?”

“Don’t you think I know my own father a little better than the rest of the wizarding world?” Draco shot back.

“I think that you’re blinded by loyalty to him,” Harry argued.

“What about you and your father?”

“What about us? I love my dad, Malfoy. But I know he wasn’t perfect. And I never claim, to anyone, that he was. I tend to look past his flings before Mum, but I never deny that he was seen as the Slut of Gryffindor...I’d just rather tell people about his good traits. But you...you completely deny _every_ bad thing that’s said about Lucius except that he’s a Death Eater but I think that you’d probably try to deny that, too, if he wasn’t arrested at the Ministry last year.”

“You don’t get it, Potter. I know that some of the things are true. I know he slept with anything that walked on two legs when he was at school. But he’s Voldemort’s right-hand-man, Potter, and three things stem from that. First, I couldn’t deny his being a Death Eater if I wanted to. Second, my father, Mum and I have all had to become great actors to even survive. And third, what you said in the Great Hall the other day, truthfully, isn’t true. A lot of what you said isn’t true, actually.”

Harry thought that over for several minutes. “What rumors _are_ true then? About you, more so than your father. Are you really part Veela? Does Lucius teach you all sorts of dark magic? Do your...um...experiences,” Harry blushed, “rival the rumors of either of our fathers?” He stopped for a second and then quickly blurted out, “Are you really gay?” Harry’s blush deepened at his last question.

“Far, _very_ distant family members were Veela but only their appearance has carried on this may generations later,” Draco replied calmly. “No, Father doesn’t teach me dark magic. And no magic is dark unless the intentions behind the incantations are dark or bad. No, the number of people that I’ve slept with comes nowhere near Father’s. And the correct term is ‘bisexual’,” the blond stated calmly and all the while adverting his eyes from the dark haired wizard who was now sitting across from him.

Harry didn’t press the sexual issues, though he was very tempted to. “Has everyone misjudged Lucius that much?” he asked gently.

“Yes an no. They think what he wants them to think but if he ever showed them the person I know is there, they’d probably drop dead of heart attacks.” Harry nodded slowly.

“So what’s he really like, then?”

A small, genuine smile graced Draco’s lips. “He’s...loving. He’s warm. He and I sit in his study at the beginning of the summer holidays every year and I tell him about school...how I got top marks in Potions but came second to Granger in everything else and how I still can’t beat you at Quidditch. Of course he tells me that I should try harder but...he doesn’t get angry with me over it like everyone thinks he does. He’s supportive.” Harry leaned forward and listened intently. “He shares Voldemort’s...erm...’philosophy’ that pure bloods should only marry purebloods but not with the intensity he leads everyone to believe he does...but if no one thought of him as a bastard who was ready to take over Voldemort’s spot, Father would be killed. And so would Mum and I.”

“So that’s why he let Voldemort do that to your mum...” Harry thought out loud. Draco nodded softly.

“He tried to rush everything along afterwards without being too obvious and he stayed by her side day and night for days after...it was the first time I’ve seen him cry in a long time...” Draco pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He looked Harry straight in the eyes. “What you said yesterday, about him putting me in danger so he can stay alive...it’s not true, Potter. He keeps me safe by risking his own life. If he had his way, he’d pack Mum and me up tonight, go into hiding and never look back.”

“So why doesn’t he? Not that I _want_ to never hear from you again but if you’d be safe then...”

“We’d never be safe, Potter. My father is Lucius Malfoy. He’s known all over Europe. Voldemort would want him. And Voldemort _always_ gets what he wants. Except for you it seems.” Harry chuckled.

“Well if he got everything that he wanted, he’d be a spoiled git like you and I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Oh please. You couldn’t live without me, Potter,” Draco sneered. Harry laughed.

“Is it hard to act like you’re better than everyone all the time?”

“What do you mean? I _am_ better than everyone!” Harry rolled his eyes “It was hard to act like a cold, heartless bastard at first-especially first and second year; I mean, what eleven or twelve year old doesn’t want to laugh and be happy? But sooner or later, it just became second nature. So much so that it’s hard to be candid with you right now.” Draco looked at the other boy. “What’s it like to live with Muggles?” Harry looked at him in disbelief.

“Why?” Draco shrugged.

“I’ve just always wanted to know.”

“Well, I guess under normal circumstances, it’s just like living with wizards. Without the magic, of course. And no house elves.” Draco crinkled his nose.

“The who cooks? Who cleans?” Harry laughed.

“You really _are_ spoiled! Well really rich Muggles have people to do it for them...but they’re paid. If you’re not really rich, then you do all the dirty work for yourself.”

“You said in normal circumstances. What’d you mean by that?”

Snape chose that moment to walk in and hand the boys their wands. They hesitated slightly but finally took them and left for their respective common rooms.

***

“Why’d you promise _that_ to _Malfoy_?!” Ron exclaimed.

“Because he wouldn’t speak to me if I didn’t. And if we don’t speak to each other, then we get more detentions. I would have found a way, not magic because Snape takes our wands, to make him open up, I chose now, before I got anymore detentions.” Ron nodded.

“I still don’t understand why you won’t tell us, Harry, but I trust your judgment, so whatever you think is best, I’ll go along with it.” Harry smiled at his best friend.

“Thanks, Ron.” Turning to Hermione, he said, “What do you think, ‘Mione?”

“I’m not sure. ON the one hand, it’s good that you won’t get anymore detentions but on the other hand, what if you say something and he tells his father? Malfoy isn’t known for keeping his word, Harry.”

“The deal was that it stays between just the two of us. I don’t know why I trust him on this one, but I do, guys. And if anything important about Voldemort comes up, I promise that I’ll go to Dumbledore.” Hermione sighed.

“Whatever you say< Harry,” she said flatly. “I’ll see you at breakfast.” The two boys watched her trudge up to the girls dormitory.

“You know she meant to say that you’ve made a huge mistake and that you should go to Dumbledore right away and ask to serve your detentions without Malfoy, right?”

“Oh, you heard that too? Good thing. I thought I was hearing things,” Harry said seriously. The boys broke into uncontrollable laughter and went up to their own dorm.

**Author's Notes: Okay, this chapter is a little longer and UN-BETA'D!! My beta went missing and so I decided to just post and I'll repost this later with the corrections she's made to it.**

**No smut yet. Sorry guys! Soon, though! I promise because they only have 4 more detentions left ^.^  
**


	7. Detention #5

Harry was, oddly enough, looking forward to his detention with Malfoy the next night. Their previous detention had gone better than he ever could have imagined and he found himself gaining a new respect for the blond. The only thing he was dreading was having to answer Malfoy’s last question. He’d never truly talked to anyone about his life at the Dursley’s but he knew that, if straight forwardly asked, he couldn’t not answer.

He took a deep breath and entered the classroom. He quickly looked around but was surprised to see that he’d even beat Malfoy there. He glanced at his watch. _6:45. No wonder._ He sighed, debating on whether he should sit and wait the fifteen minutes or walk around and come back. _Might as well stay. It’ll be worth the look on Malfoy’s face,_ he thought to himself.

Fifteen minutes later, Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape entered the room and saw Harry sitting at his usual table looking overly bored. Their jaws dropped slightly but both recovered quickly. “Has Hell frozen over already, Scarhead?” Draco sneered.

“No. The day that you beat me at Quidditch is the day that Hell will freeze over, Ferret Face,” Harry retorted. Draco sneered at him once more as they both handed their wands over to the Potion’s Master.

They sat in silence for a few minutes; Harry was hoping Draco would forget what he’d asked him and Draco was trying to think of a way to ask the question again without the other boy noticing how much he really wanted an answer. In the end, they both lost: Draco asked the question again and Harry figured out that Draco was really very interested to hear his answer.

Harry took a few deep breaths and began to tell his enemy about his childhood. He told him of being forced to live in the cupboard under the stairs, not being told he was a wizard and that his parents died in a car accident; he told him about being forced to cook and clean like a servant and only being acknowledged when he was in trouble or had done something wrong.

“So the rumors are true then? They abused you?”

“Not physically. _Never_ physically...except for Dudley. But the rest is true, yeah.”

“So why does Dumbledore make you go back there?”

“Because my mum died protecting me.” Draco crinkled his nose a bit in confusion. _Good Gods! Can he get any cuter? Wait. No! Bad Harry! Just explain what you meant..._ “It’s blood magic,” Harry managed to get out. _There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?_ “Because my mum took the curse for me, her blood, which is in her sister too, still protects me.” Draco nodded lightly.

“So that explains the ten-sizes-too-big-for-you clothes. And puts to rest the rumors of the vaults at Gringotts,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“The clothes, yeah, but those rumors about Gringotts are true. Well, most of them are.”

“That makes no sense. If you have all that money, why not buy decent clothes?”

“Do you really think that the Dursley’s would let me keep those clothes? And do you think that they wouldn’t try to take my parent’s life savings?”

“But...” Harry shook his head to silence the blond boy.

“It doesn’t matter. They’d still try to take it.”

“Okay then, what rumors _aren’t_ true about your fortune?”

“I only got one third of Sirius’ vault. Remmy got one and...erm...”

“The Order got the other,” Draco said flatly. Harry blinked. “I told you Father would rather go into hiding, Potter.”

“Oh...well...I mean...anyway...I’m not named to Dumbledore’s vault, either.” Draco nodded. “Is your father a spy for the Order?” Draco hesitated. “It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone, Malfoy.”

“Until I somehow piss you off,” he said under his breath. Then more clearly, “Look, my father is currently sitting in a heavily warded and guarded cell in Azkaban. Even if I could answer your question and even if that answer was a ‘yes’, there isn’t much that he can do for either side right now.”

“I never thought about it like that...”

“Of course you didn’t. What about the other rumors?” Harry looked at the blond quizzically.

“What other rumors?”

“You and Mudblood?”

“Don’t call her that,” Harry replied irritably. “No, ‘Mione and I are not dating. We never have; she’s like a sister to me.”

“So the one about your lack of a sex life is true then?” Harry only blushed and nodded. “Is that from nobility and morals or your preference in partners?” he asked smoothly.

“Erm...the latter?” In truth, Harry had never really considered either but his thought process lately was definitely leading Harry to believe that he might be attracted to boys.

Draco nodded. “What about the fame?” Harry cocked his head curiously.

“What about it? It’s an inconvenience that I wouldn’t miss if it were gone but I despise since it seems that I’m destined to never get rid of it.”

“Why do you hate it so much?”

“Because I gained it for something that I didn’t do. My mother saved me, Draco. She’s the one that deserves the fond memories and praise. Then there’s the fact that by the time I graduate, every wizard in England, Scotland and Wales is going to know everything about my life: from my fancying blokes to what I’ve eaten for breakfast to the exact times that I used the loo that day. Your name is infamous, too. And if the fact that you’re bisexual ever got out, it’d be a headline. But me...Merlin...it’d be in The Prophet, Witch Weekly and The Quibbler, right above a list of names claiming they’ve all been buggered by me just because my name is Harry Potter.” He paused for a moment and then added, “Sorry for ranting. I just don’t understand how people can believe that I thrive on all the negative attention.”

“You don’t exactly lead people to believe otherwise. And did you just call me ‘Draco’?” Harry blinked. Had he?

“Erm...I guess I did. Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t apologize. It’s nice. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

The boys sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments. “Why do you hate me?” Harry finally asked.

“I don’t hate you. I certainly don’t _like_ you, but I don’t hate you.” Harry pondered that confession for a moment.

“Then what _are_ your feelings towards me?”

“It’s a love-very strong dislike thing. I love to very strongly dislike you.”

“Oh,” he replied, quickly looking at the floor.

“You expected me to tell you that I’ve lashed out at you for six years to hide feelings of lust?” Draco asked sarcastically.

“No. Just was kind of hoping that it wasn’t dislike...I don’t like when people dislike me. I don’t expect everyone to like me but...I don’t know. I guess I haven’t mastered the not caring thing yet.” Draco chuckled.

“Don’t stop caring, Potter. You’ll regret it. Just...put your values and opinions about stuff, especially yourself, above and before everyone else’s,” Draco stated simply. Harry considered the advice in silence.

“What do you see when you look at a boggart?”

“My mum and dad dying.”

“You really love them.” It was an observation more than anything but Draco nodded nonetheless.

“They’re all I have. Well, I have Snape, too but really only at school. I’d rather talk to Father or Mum about most things.” Harry scrunched his nose up a bit.

“Snape?”

“He’s my godfather,” Draco explained. “We don’t let on in school because Voldemort doesn’t even know but he raised me almost as much as Mum and Father did and he looks after me while I’m at school.”

“Why don’t you want Voldemort to know?”

“He’d use me. Father protects me from him because he trusts Father. But even though Snape is in his inner circle, it’s only for his title as Potion’s Master...Voldemort doesn’t trust Snape as far as I can throw him and would use anything against him to get what he wanted.”

Harry was silent for a minute but then asked, “Why can you tell me all this stuff but not if your father is a spy for the Order?”

“Because my father is in a position right now where he can’t defend himself. The dementors are still at Azkaban and if they even got an inkling that Lucius isn’t fully with the Dark Lord, they’d...” he trailed off as a single, traitorous tear slowly slid down Draco’s cheek. “...they’d Kiss him,” he choked out. Draco drew his knees to his chest while wrapping his arms around them. Harry got up, walked over to the other boy and knelt down in front of him. He cupped the Slytherin’s face in his hands and wiped the tear from his cheek tenderly with his thumb. Draco looked up, stunned at the kindness and such a gentle touch from a boy whom was supposed to hate him. Harry looked Draco directly in his eyes.

“I really wish you’d trust me with that information,” he whispered. “I understand why you feel that you can’t and that you want to protect your father, but I wouldn’t turn him over to either side, even if he was the bastard I thought him to be.” Draco half smiled at the dark haired wizard before him.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“I’ll always be around if you want to talk. Even if something is said outside of detention, I wouldn’t tell anyone.” Harry leaned up to push himself off of the floor but paused for a moment. He leaned up a bit more and lightly brushed his lips across the blond’s before he got up and sat back down in his chair.

Draco touched his fingers to his mouth and looked at the other boy completely stunned. What shocked him more, though, was the pressing problem, that was now beginning to throb and cause him pain, sitting between his legs. _Oh Merlin,_ he groaned to himself. _Crabbe in a thong...Crabbe in a thong..._ he repeated to himself like a mantra. He mentally shook himself, relieved that the mental images he’d planted in his own head were having the desired effect. Having secured his mask back in place, he sneered, “What was that Potter?” Harry looked at the blond blankly.

“It’s called a kiss, though I’m surprised you had to ask with your reputation with the student population,” he quipped. Draco rolled his eyes as he approached Harry.

“That, Potter, wasn’t a kiss.” He leaned down, his mouth just centimeters away from the other boy’s. “ _This_ is a kiss.” Before Harry had time to respond, Draco pushed his lips forcefully onto Harry’s. Draco dragged the tip of his tongue across the quivering bottom lip of the other boy lightly before he pulled back to smirk at the obviously flabbergasted boy in front of him. Pleased with himself for rendering The Golden Boy speechless, Draco turned on his heel and sat back down.

“Why’d you do that?” Harry questioned.

“Because I felt sorry for you-you didn’t even know what a proper kiss was,” Draco stated simply. _Liar! You’ve been dying to do that since you fought on Saturday night!_ Draco silently willed his inner voice to go away, or to at least stop being right.

Harry shook his head. He wasn’t sure why he could read the Slytherin boy so well at that moment, but he could tell that he was lying through his teeth. “I don’t know why you’re lying to me, of all people, but you don’t need to.” Harry began to wring his hands together nervously. “I won’t use anything against you, Draco. I have nothing to gain from it and there’s a whole lot to lose.” Draco snorted.

“What do _you_ have to lose by humiliating me?”

“A potential alliance? A possible friend? Not to mention self respect.”

“We’ll never be friends, Potter.”

“And allies?” Draco sighed.

“I can’t answer that.”

“Why not?!” Harry was frustrated now. “You’ve told me all about Lucius and that Snape is your godfather...you just kissed me for Merlin’s sake! Any one of those things could get your parents, you and Snape killed in the blink of an eye! Why won’t you answer the rest of my questions?”

“It’s not that simple, Potter.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Because if I tell you, you’ll act differently towards me and that _will_ get us killed...you included.”

“You just said that we’ll never be friends, so nothing will change.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“I just...need to know. I don’t know why. I guess maybe I really want to believe that you’re not just lying to me to appease me.” Draco’s head snapped up.

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“I...I don’t know what I think.”

“Then why will those bits of information confirm anything for you? I could just lie to you.”

“If you were going to lie about them, you’d have just answered the questions, rather than tried to avoid them,” Harry stated simply.

Draco sighed in defeat. He knew Potter was right as much as he wished otherwise. He knew that if they hadn’t made the deal to keep things said between the two of them, Potter would have told everything to his friends but Draco also knew Harry better than anyone could guess and he knew that because the Gryffindor had given his word, nothing Draco told him would pass his lips. Draco sighed again. “Yes. To both questions. Now you.”

“Me what?”

“Your comment about Longbottom?”

“Oh. See-“

“Goodnight, gentlemen,” Snape greeted as he entered the classroom. Harry sighed in relief while Draco growled in frustration, but both boys took their wands and left for each of their common rooms.

**Author's Notes: Quick update. NOT BETA'D! I think I'm going to not bother with getting my stuff beta'd because all my betas seem to disappear on me *tear* so any and all mistakes from here on out are mine and mine alone.**

**For those of you waiting for smut, you got a kiss in this chapter...and you'll see a TINY bit more in the next ^.^**

**Draco is slowly becoming OOC but, if he didn't, then we'd have no hot, dirty smut. And, well, I've become attatched to this thing called "breathing" that's supposidly all the rage now-a-days, and seeing as you'd be a little disappointed if I cut out the smut, I went into a heated battle with my heffalumps and finally convinced them that OOC-ness at this point was a good thing. Please don't hurt me for it LOL**

**Lucius' OOC-ness: There was no point to making Lucius abusive since this is NOT a h/c fic so I've made him the way that I want: a loving, caring father to Draco and a wonderful hubby to Cissy. Same with the Dursley's. Since it's not a h/c fic, there was no point in battering the Godly body of our beloved Harry.**

**I think that's all for now. Hope you enjoyed this chapter ^.^**

**Detentions being short are the evil heffalumps fault. Blame them.  
**


	8. Detention #6

Harry lay in bed starring up at the canopy above his bed. He desperately wanted to talk to his best friends about what he’d learned over the last few nights but he’d given Draco his word. _Why do I care so much? It’s not like he doesn’t deserve the humiliation..._ Harry mused. But no matter how he tried to justify breaking his promise, he knew that he wouldn’t.

The past few days had been strange for Harry. Through talking with Malfoy so openly, he began to see the blond in a whole new light and, in turn, Harry was growing to respect him. _Respect doesn’t justify daydreaming about kissing him or starring at his arse...or the side trip to the loo after that kiss..._.

But the more Harry thought about it, the more he began to see what would have been so obvious to his friends: he was developing a crush on the Slytherin. _Great going, Potter, he reprimanded himself. You go and fall for_ Malfoy _who, only an hour go, told you that you’ll never even be friends!_ Harry groaned to himself. He knew Draco had been lying when he’d questioned his motive for kissing him but that didn’t exactly mean that Draco had kissed him out of attraction. He could have just wanted to humiliate Harry.

Harry was confused. Was everything that had come out of Malfoy’s mouth in their last few detentions been the truth or had he told Harry what he wanted to hear? Was he imagining the curiosity the blond seemed to radiate while Harry talked of his childhood? And what of the kiss? Was the blond feeling the same attraction towards Harry or had the Gryffindor misread the “lying”? Had Draco really kissed him out of pity? What about his kissing Draco? Harry analyzed that action for a minute. _Come off it, Potter! You kissed him because you wanted to know what it would be like._ Harry sighed. He knew his subconscious was right but he didn’t know what he could do about it except wait for detention the next night and try to get the answers to his questions. The Gryffindor sighed one last time, rolled over on his side and fell into an uneasy sleep.

***

Harry walked into the Potion’s classroom the next night not knowing what to expect. He knew he’d have to tell Draco about the prophecy but he didn’t know if the blond would answer the questions Harry had come up with while lying in bed the night before.

After handing their wands over, Harry began to speak almost immediately. “You don’t have to ask that question again. Just...just be patient while I answer it.” Draco only nodded his head in agreement. “Voldemort tried to kill me when I was fifteen months old because of a prophecy that was made before I was even born. It said: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not...And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.” Harry took a deep breath to calm his nerves before he continued. “I was born on July 31 and my parents had defeated Voldemort three times. Alice and Frank Longbottom had too.” Draco looked at Harry questioningly. “Neville’s birthday is July 30.” Draco’s eyes grew wide in understanding.

“So then why you? Longbottom would have been easier for Voldemort to kill-you’re three times stronger than he is!” Harry shook his head.

“How could Voldemort have known that? Dumbledore explained it as he chose the wizard he saw as the greatest threat and he tried to kill him before they could defend themselves. He thought it was fool proof. He wasn’t counting on my mum jumping in front of me.”

“Potter, why was he in the Department of Mysteries if he already knew the prophecy? Why was Black there? Why were you there, for that matter?”

Harry took another deep breath. He knew he’d eventually have to answer those questions but he was hoping beyond hope that it wouldn’t be now. “He only knew part of the prophecy. The person who was listening in was kicked out of the pub before the whole ‘mark him as his equal’ bit. Sirius was at the Ministry because I was there.” Draco looked confused.

“I heard you went after him.” He got up from his seat and sat back down on the table, his feet now resting on the chair in front of him as he faced Harry.

“I did.”

“Huh?”

“When Voldemort gave me my scar, he transferred some of his power to me; he marked me as his equal and gave me power that he didn’t know about. It’s how I can speak Parselmouth. Anyway, I can feel him. When he’s mad or near me, my scar hurts. I’ve always had dreams where I could see him torturing people and stuff, but last year I had a dream that I was a snake and attacked Arthur Weasley. But a snake really had attacked him. I went so far into Voldemort’s mind that I saw and felt like I was him. Until that point, Voldemort had no clue how closely we were connected. But when Dumbledore figured out that he’d caught on, he made Snape teach me Occlumency. I didn’t do too well, obviously. Voldemort planted pictures in my mind of Sirius being in trouble-he knew I’d go help him. I went and Sirius followed when he learned where I was.” Harry gingerly wiped tears off his cheek with the palm of his hand. The tears had been flowing freely down Harry’s cheeks for several minutes but Harry had paid no attention until now.

“Why’d he need you there?”

“It’s where the prophecy is kept. Only the people a prophecy is about can retrieve it safely.”

“And the Ministry didn’t believe he’d returned yet,” Draco supplied. Not able to speak, Harry only nodded. “I...I don’t know what to say, Potter.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Harry muttered. Draco slid off the table gracefully and sat in the chair next to Harry as he rested his hand on the Gryffindor’s shoulder.

“I can’t say that I understand but...erm...” Draco paused to put words to his emotions. “Well, I don’t know where I was going with this,” he finished quietly.

Harry sighed deeply. “It’s just...knowing that in order to be normal, I have to be abnormal is a drag. Does that make sense?” Harry didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “I don’t want to murder anyone. I don’t want to be worshipped by wizards and witches all over Europe for something that _should_ land me on the wrong side of the gates at Azkaban.” Harry choked back a sob. “I don’t want to stoop to their level.” Harry buried his face in his hands but Draco knew he was crying by the shaking of his shoulders. Draco dropped his hand down to the small of Harry’s back and began rubbing it in soothing circles.

“But that’s what makes you different, Harry.” His voice was as soothing as the circles he was rubbing over Harry’s back. The Gryffindor looked up in a mixture of surprise and confusion. “They kill for the hell of it; for fun. But you try to avoid even emotionally paining anyone, no matter how much they deserve it. The ‘kill or be killed’ bit sucks...but I’d rather live in a world without Tom Marvolo Riddle rather than a world without Harry James Potter.” Harry’s mouth gaped open. “And if you ever speak of that statement again,” Draco added quickly, “I’ll hex you with a hex worse than ten Bat Bogey Hexes.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched uncontrollably as he tried to hold in his laughter. After only fifteen seconds or so, he gave in and doubled over laughing so hard that new tears were now streaming down his face. “Luckily, Malfoy,” he managed to get out between his fits of uncontrollable laughter, “only one of us has been on the wrong end of Ginerva Weasley’s wand.” Draco scowled.

“Lucky me,” he muttered and Harry burst into another fit of laughter.

The boys sat in silence for a long while, each digesting the information they’d learned so far that night. Draco’s hand fell from Harry’s back after a few minutes. “Why do you let Dumbledore manipulate you?” The question had come out of nowhere and the content shocked Harry almost as much as the sound of the other boy’s voice had.

“I didn’t have a choice. When I first came to Hogwarts, I had no one in the wizarding world and I trusted him because it just felt right to. By third year, I did it grudgingly and last year, after I learned of the prophecy...well I just don’t see it as manipulation anymore. If I’m the only one who can defeat Voldemort, then so be it. I don’t want all of the repercussions of it, self inflicted or otherwise, but he needs to be killed. I can’t stand around and do nothing out of selfishness and just watch my friends and loved ones die because he was too bloody stupid to find out the rest of the prophecy before attacking.” Draco nodded a little to show acknowledgement but this new confession had drawn him deep within his own thoughts.

Harry took that time to really look at the blond. He noticed how his brow was furrowed at his intense concentration of whatever was on his mind. His steel grey eyes were intensely focused on his hands, which were fidgeting on the table in front of him. His bottom lip was just slightly sticking out from being so lost in his own thoughts.

Suddenly, Harry was snapped out of his observations by a hand waving in front of his face. “How’s the weather up there?” Draco joked.

“What?” The blond shook his head.

“Your head is in the clouds, Potter. I asked how the weather was to try and subtly tell you that your eyes were glazed over and your mouth was hanging open like a dead fish’s.” Harry blushed slightly.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” He hesitated for a moment. “What were you just thinking about?”

“How I’ve misjudged you.” Harry cocked his head to the side.

“How have you misjudged me and what’d I say to make you realize it?”

“You told me about your childhood,” Draco began. “I’d always thought that your family treated you like a spoiled prince. I had no clue that they didn’t tell you that you were a wizard or who your parents were or...well any of it. I always thought you thrived on the attention; that you liked it. I never would have thought you to possess so many Slytherin-like qualities and so little Hufflepuff attributes. I thought you were straight and dating Granger or Weaselette. And I thought that you would have had more experience in the kissing department.” Harry blushed at Draco’s last statement.

“I guess I can’t blame you. I made a lot of wrong assumptions about you and your family, too. And just because I haven’t kissed just about every student above third year doesn’t mean I haven’t had some experience with it.” Draco snorted at this.

“If what you did last night is what you consider kissing, than you’re sitting here lying through your teeth,” he stated confidently.

Harry stood, strode over to the Slytherin and firmly pressed his lips to the other boy’s. A small moan escaped from Draco and Harry took this opportunity to slip the tip of his tongue into the unsuspecting blond’s mouth. Harry’s tongue gently explored Draco’s mouth as his hands tentatively cupped his face.

After regaining his senses, Draco immediately began to kiss Harry back. His tongue battled the Gryffindor’s, trying to trap it down so he could suck on it. Frustrated with Harry playing cat and mouse, Draco firmly clasped Harry’s tongue between his teeth and sucked on the tip. Harry groaned at the sensation. Slowly, Draco released his hold and drew out of the kiss to catch his breath.

“Ahem.” Both boys spun around to see their Potion’s Master leaning against the doorframe. His legs were crossed at his ankles and his arms were folded across his chest. His eyebrow was raised and the corner of his mouth was slightly raised in amusement. He walked to his students, their wands outstretched to them. Harry and Draco both took their wands and, blushing, ran from the classroom to the sanctuary of their own dorms.

**Author's Notes: Not too much to say at this point. Obviously the boy's kissing is a bit more intense here so y'all know it's only going to get better ^.^ Harry told Draco about his connection to Voldie and such a little sooner than I really wanted, but I have my reasons (well, at least that's what the heffalumps tell me...o.O) R &R ^.^**

**09-June-05  
I changed Sev's reaction. Why? Because Sarah said to. Sorta. Sevvie was NOT disgusted by catching the boys kissing. He was disgusted by the emotions Draco SHOWED (because Malfoy's don't show emotion!) I noted to an earlier reviewer that Sevvie knows EVERYTHING that is going on in his classroom. He knew that the boys had kissed last detention but let it slide. His entrance at this specific time wasn't an accident here, people. ^.~  
**


	9. "This is Wrong!"

Draco pushed his bedroom door shut and leaned against it. His eyes fluttered closed as he tried to will his raging erection to go down. _Why’d that kiss do this to me?_ He sighed. _Because it was bloody hot...because HE is bloody hot..._ Draco banged his head back against the door. “Bloody Potter,” he mumbled aloud as be began to prepare for bed.

He unpinned his Prefect’s badge and carefully set it on his dresser and then began to loosen his tie. _This is wrong!_ his mind screamed at him. _Wishing that Harry bloody Potter was here to strip you down naked and shag you so far into the carpet that you’d leave a permanent impression in it is WRONG!_

The blond stepped out of his charcoal trousers, added them to the top of the pile of clothes he’d just shed and climbed into bed. He looked down and groaned. Thinking about being stripped naked and shagged senseless didn’t help his throbbing cock, whose head was now peaking out from the top of the waistband of Draco’s silk boxers.

Draco used his index finger to wipe away the pearly drop of pre-cum that had formed there. His breath hitched and, unable to deny himself any longer, he pushed his boxers down around his thighs and tightly grasped his hard cock. A moan escaped his lips as he stroked himself with his right hand while his left slid down to massage his balls. Draco closed his eyes and imagined Harry, between his legs, sucking his cock. He imagined how it would feel to have the Savior of the Wizarding World on his knees before him, with those sinfully gorgeous lips wrapped around him. He imagined the warm, wet heat of Harry’s mouth and the feel of his tongue.

Draco’s hands moved faster and his moans got louder as he neared euphoria. Unbidden, images of Harry sliding those long, tan fingers into his arse popped into Draco’s head. Images of slick movements and of eventually being filled by Harry’s own hard length finally pushed the blond over the edge. “Harry!” Draco gasped as his seed pulsed over his hand and stomach.

***

Harry sat on his bed his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, his head bent back to rest against the wall behind him. What had he just done? _You just kissed a very gorgeous boy._ Harry snorted. That wasn’t the part that had irked him. It was getting _caught_ kissing said boy. By Severus Snape. A very _amused_ Severus Snape. _He’s been spending way too much time with Dumbledore,_ Harry mused. _Wonder how he’d react to being told that?_ A grin appeared on Harry’s face as Ron’s head poked through his bed hangings.

“Happy thoughts to keep _him_ at bay?” Harry moved to sit Indian style so Ron could join him and shook his head. He cast a quick silencing charm so Ron could ask the question he was dying to ask. “Are you sure you can’t tell me what’s been going on with Malfoy?”

“You know I can’t.”

“Why do you trust him on this, Harry? It’s a huge leap of Faith. What if he goes and tells someone?”

“It’s just a gut feeling. I can’t really explain it. Something is just telling me that he’s got just as much to lose. Besides: so what if he tells? It’s not as if everyone doesn’t already know every detail of my life.”

“Yeah but it’s Malfoy. He’ll twist your words around to sound like something...” he paused and then continued, “Malfoy!” Harry laughed.

“You say that like that part would be worse than Voldemort’s backlash to the information!”

“It is!” Ron firmly took his best friend by his shoulders and shook him vigorously to get his point across. “WE ARE TALKING ABOUT DRACO BLOODY MALFOY!”

Harry grasped Ron’s forearms so he’d stop shaking him. “Yes, Ron. We’re talking about Malfoy. You won’t let me forget it. But you said in the common room the other night that you trust my judgment. You have to trust me on this because I’m not going to back down.”

“But Harry-“ Harry shook his head.

“No, Ron. No ‘buts’. He and I made a deal and unless someone’s life is seriously at risk, I won’t go back on my word. I would never dream of doing it to you or ‘Mione and I won’t even begin to consider doing it now, even if it is Malfoy.” Harry’s firm tone was his way of telling Ron to pick another topic or say goodnight.

“’Mione and I just want you to be safe, Harry. G’night.”

_It’s only two more nights_ he told himself after Ron had left. He sighed and curled onto his side. _Yeah,_ he answered himself. _But will I be able to survive those nights?_ He closed his eyes and tossed restlessly for hours before he dozed into a light sleep.

***

Harry woke up drained the next morning and the fact that he’d had had a vision that night definitely didn’t help. He groaned as he rolled over, wishing he had a pain potion to ease some of the aches that visions left him with. He hauled himself out of bed and shuffled off to take a quick shower before classes.

Potions, for once, was tolerable. Harry guessed Snape catching him kissing Malfoy the night before made the Slytherin Head of House avoid him as much as humanly possible. And that, of course, suited Harry just fine.

Care of Magical Creatures, though, was a different story. For some ungodly reason, Hagrid thought that it’d be fun to see how the blast-ended skrewts had matured. Harry made a mental note to himself to have a talk with Hagrid about the definition of the word “fun” as soon as possible.

“That oaf is crazy!” Harry heard being whispered behind him. “Just wait til-“ Harry spun around.

“Until what, Malfoy?” the Gryffindor blurted out. “Until your father hears about this? Well, just in case you’re nine months behind the rest of the wizarding world and you didn’t receive this memo:” Harry took a deep breath and began to scream at the top of his lungs, “YOUR FATHER IS IN AZKABAN PRISION FOR KISSING VOLDEMORET’S BLOODY ARSE!!!” His breath was ragged and, even though he could hear them he paid no attention to the gasps of shock and horror that rippled through the class.

He did, however, pay attention when Hermione stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. “Calm down, Harry. He’s not worth it,” she whispered.

Harry was livid. _After five years, you’d think he’d have grown out of the Lets-Ruin-Innocent-People’s-Lives-For-The-Hell-Of-It phase!_

“Just walk away, Love” cooed Hermione. “You don’t want or need another detention just for him.” Harry sighed in defeat and let his best friend pull him away from the confrontation and towards the Great Hall for lunch.

***

As he headed for the dungeons later that night, Harry was glad he’d skipped his afternoon class of double Divinations. He’d have retched if he’d had to listen to Trewlawny predicting his horrible and untimely death for ninety minutes.

When he reached the Potion’s classroom, Harry paused and looked up at the doors. _Wonder how badly he’ll hex me before Snape takes our wands away._ Harry took a deep breath and pulled the doors open.

**Author's Notes: *ducks objects being thrown at me* Cliffie, I know. And after a long time of not updating. I'm sorry! The heffalumps might not be, but I am!! In all seriousness, I've been trying to write this, and Blue Eyed Dragon, and Senior Year plus I got promoted at work which means longer and more hours so please be patient. ^.^  
**


	10. "Would you rather..."

Harry entered the classroom cautiously, fully expecting to be hit with at least one curse or hex. He quickly scanned the room and breathed a sigh of relief when there was no sign of his Slytherin classmate. Letting the door shut behind him, Harry fully stepped into the classroom and was greeted by a wand being firmly held at his Adam’s apple. _Where’d he come from!?_

Harry took a few deep breaths. “Look, Malfoy. I know you’re pissed off-and you have every right to be!-but is landing in a lifetime of detention really worth hexing me into next week?”

“Shut up, Potter,” the blond snarled. “You didn’t even know what I was going to say back there. And did you know that I wasn’t talking about that big oaf?” Harry noticed that Draco’s breathing had become erratic and the volume of his voice was rising with every word he spoke. “I’m no saint, like you are Potter but what you said was just out and out _cruel_...even by my standards.” Harry considered that for a second.

“Who were you talking about then? What were you going to say?”

“A...an associate of my father. I was going to say ‘wait until I get my hands on him’. If you had listened to the whole conversation, you’d have known that I wasn’t paying any attention in class.”

“Oh...but you...well I...erm...” Harry babbled. He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry, Malfoy. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping I should have kept my mouth shut I-“

“Shut up,” he commanded firmly. “I know all of that. Hell, the whole class could have told you that-not that they would have, mind you...I’m Malfoy.”

“You’re wrong.” Draco looked at Harry questioningly. “’Mione told me what I jerk I was today. In many more words. Repeatedly.” Draco smirked.

“Mudblood stood up for me?”

“Don’t call her that. And yes, Malfoy. She told me that I was wrong in jumping down your throat and that I shouldn’t have said anything, even if you had been talking about Hagrid, because it wasn’t worth being baited over.” Slowly, Draco lowered his wand.

“Smart girl,” he stated simply.

“You’re _just_ noticing that?” Draco shrugged.

“I like living in my own little bubble when it comes to someone being better than me at stuff.”

“Is that why you still think you can beat me at Quidditch?” In an instant, the Slytherin’s wand was aimed back at Harry’s throat.

“I’m not sure which amuses me more,” drawled Snape from behind them. “You two snogging like there’s no tomorrow or you bickering like an old married couple.” Draco’s wand clattered to the floor as his mouth dropped open and Harry’s cheeks flushed bright red as he dropped his eyes to the floor. Recovering first a few seconds later, Draco retrieved his wand and handed it over to his Head of House. After a few more moments he nudged Harry in the ribs with his elbow.

“Huh? Oh. Wand. Right.” He took his wand from his pocket and gave it to Snape.

“Why don’t you hate me?” Harry asked after the Potion’s Master had left. “I’ve given you tons of reasons to.” Draco shrugged.

“I guess I just thought I did. I was supposed to. My father is one of the highest-ranking Death Eaters and you’re Harry Potter. Voldemort wouldn’t be very happy if he saw anything less than hate. Basically it was just easier to let myself believe that I hated you than it was to stand up to them. And don’t tell me that I’m a coward. I already know that I am.”

“No you’re not” Harry argued. “You did was you had to do to keep your family safe. I wish I could do that.”

“No you don’t. You’d go crazy without Weasel and Granger.” Harry smiled at Draco not calling Hermione “Mudblood”.

“Do you really think Ron or ‘Mione would let me cut off all ties even if it was for their own good? Do you think Molly would for that matter? And I know Voldemort wouldn’t buy it.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Why do you hate me?”

“Who said that I hate you? I don’t like the things you’ve been taught and I hate the mean and hurtful things that you say and to me and my friends but even before these detentions I didn’t have you and would have helped you if you’d asked for it.” Draco snorted.

“You’d have helped Voldemort if he’d told you he wanted to stop killing innocent people,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“No I wouldn’t!” Draco raised his eyebrow at Harry. “Okay. I would have. But that’s not the point! What’s wrong with giving people a second chance?”

“Nothing. But even _Dumbledore_ didn’t give him a second chance. Maybe you should take that as a hint.” Draco pushed past the Gryffindor and sat in his usual seat.

“Why’d you really kiss me the other day? Was it really because you ‘felt sorry’ for me?”

Draco looked up, a bit stunned. _Of all the questions in the world, why’d he ask THAT one?_ He inwardly groaned. “Sort of,” he mumbled. “I mean yes,” he stated more clearly. “But I think that was only part of it.”

“What was the other part?”

Before Draco would answer the question, two cups of tea appeared on the table in front of Draco with a note.

_Drink up, Boys!_

_~A.D._

Draco looked at the note suspiciously and then handed it to Harry. The Gryffindor laughed while explaining, “It’s harmless. Probably just spiked with a calming drought.” Harry picked up a cup and sipped from it to let Draco know it really was safe.

The blond nodded and sipped from the other cup. As he did writing appeared on the back of Dumbledore’s note. He gently took it from Harry’s hands and read it out loud. “I have taken the liberty to add a drop or two of Veritaserum to Albus’ concoction. Have a good night, Gentlemen.” Draco paled. It was in Snape’s handwriting.

“He wouldn’t...”

“He’s a Slytherin. Of course he would. Let’s test it. Do you masturbate, Potter?”

Harry’s face instantly flushed. He clamped his hands over his mouth, muffling his answer. He pulled his hands away and dully stated, “There’s Veritaserum in the tea.” Draco smirked as all of the questions he wanted to ask raced through his head. Harry beat him to it. “Why’d you kiss me the other night?” Harry grinned smugly while Draco’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s.

Draco lowered his head so deeply that his chin was tucked into his chest as he quickly mumbled, “BecauseIwantedtoandbecauseyou’rereallybloodyhot.” Draco’s cheeks turned a shade of red that rivaled Ron’s hair.

Harry was stunned after he’d deciphered what Draco had just said to him. He sat down next to the blond. “Are you ever going to look at me again?” Draco shook his head. “Why not?”

“Because that was cruel and under-handed. I wasn’t ready to admit that...even to myself, let alone you.”

Harry tucked his index finger under Draco’s chin and gently guided the blond’s head up. “I wanted you to kiss me,” he whispered before leaning forward and slightly pressing his lips to the Slytherin’s.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds but it conveyed all of Harry’s want for more. Harry broke the kiss slowly and anxiously waited for Draco’s response. Draco almost lunged at Harry and pressed his lips hard against the other boy’s. He drew Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth and sucked on it sensually. Harry groaned and wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, pulling him (and his chair) closer. Draco took Harry’s face in his hands kissing the Gryffindor harder and more intensely.

Draco drew his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip, requesting entrance. The dark-haired wizard slipped his tongue out to meet the blond’s. Their tongues danced slowly a their hands roamed over each other’s chests, necks, and shoulders.

Harry’s hands slipped down to the small of Draco’s back and he tugged gently, effectively drawing the blond wizard into his lap. Draco straddled Harry’s thighs and, despite mews of protest, Harry abandoned the Slytherin’s lips in favor of his very tempting and delectable neck.

“Harry,” Draco gasped.

“Mmm,” was the response.

“Harry...I want this more than anything...Oh...Right there...No...No, wait...I need to slow down, Harry.” Harry trailed a line of kisses up to the blond’s mouth, kissed them lightly and then pulled away.

“Okay.” He pressed his lips to the blond’s chest, then raised them to whisper in his ear. “And, yes, I masturbate. I wank off almost nightly while fantasizing about sucking your cock,” Harry licked Draco’s earlobe, “making you scream my name,” he bit gently, “bending you over the edge of my bed,” he sucked on the Slytherin’s earlobe, “and ramming my cock so deep into your hot tight arse that you can’t see straight.” Draco groaned.

“Merlin, Harry,” he gasped. Harry grinned at Draco’s reaction. “Are you really okay with this? And what is ‘this’ anyway?”

“This, so far, is us snogging each other into oblivion. And yes, I’m okay with it. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be doing it. I think the question is what do you want ‘this’ to turn into?” Draco thought for a moment before answering.

“I’m not sure. I mean, I like the snogging and I’m all for the shagging me senseless but...a relationship? I just don’t know, Harry. Aside from the fact that Voldemort would be...a bit upset, I don’t know if I’m ready to come out to the entire wizarding world or have a serious relationship with anyone-guy or girl.” Harry nodded.

“I understand.”

“And you? What do you want out of this?”

“You,” he stated simply. “I don’t know what these feelings are, Draco. They’re definitely not love but I don’t think they’re going away anytime soon. If a physical thing is all you can handle right now, then I’m okay with that as long as you promise that we’ll keep getting to know each other like we have been.”

“What about Voldemort? The rest of the wizarding world?”

“Tell Voldemort that you’re trying to gain my trust to turn me over to him. Hell, let the rest of the world think that, too. The only people I have to tell are the Order, Ron and ‘Mione and they’ll keep their mouths shut about it. I promise.” Draco looked skeptical. Harry kissed the tip of Draco’s nose. “I promise,” he repeated. “C’mon. Lets have some fun with this. Would you rather find out that your fly was open all day or that your shirttail was out, you missed a belt loop and your pants leg was tucked into your sock? In neither situation, by the way, are you wearing robes.” Draco burst out laughing.

“Where’d you come up with that question!? I’d rather have my fly open. I’d ask ‘what about you’ but you never tuck your shirt in, anyway.” Harry shoved the blond playfully.

“I’d have answered the same way, anyway.”

“That’s boring!”

“Then you come up with a better question!”

“Okay...” After a few minutes, Draco spoke again. “Would you rather be granted the answers to any three questions or be granted the ability to resurrect one person?”

“I’d bring back Sirius. I’d give anything to have him back...”

“Harry, I’m sorry,” Draco murmured as he hugged the other boy.

“For what?”

“For bringing that up. It was really stupid of me.” Harry shook his head and sniffled a bit.

“It’s okay. Really.” He looked up and grinned at the blond. “Which would you choose?”

“I’d get answers to three questions.”

“Which questions?”

“When you’re going to kill Voldemort, if my life is ever going to get back to normal and...” he thought for a second. “If I’ll ever have kids,” he answered definitively.

“You want kids?”

“Of course. Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah but since I don’t like girls...well yeah.” Draco shrugged.

“Can always adopt.”

“I never thought about that. I guess you’re right. Anyway. Would you rather spend two weeks whole weeks here in your boxers or go to two classes completely naked?” Draco laughed.

“Erm...two classes. I’d love to see Snape’s face.” Draco smirked.

“I’d spend the two weeks. I could always have ‘Mione spell the fronts shut or something.”

“And deprive the entire student population of getting a glimpse of you?” Harry chuckled.

“If your two classes were during my two weeks, everyone would see everything anyway because I’d be walking around with an incurable hard-on for all of those two days.” Draco shifted deliberately so that his cock rubbed against Harry’s. The Gryffindor moaned and Draco smirked a bit.

“Incurable, huh?” He winked at the dark-haired wizard. “I could come up with a few ideas to cure a raging hard-on...” he added thoughtfully. Harry thrust his hips up hard making the blond wizard groan.

“I think I’ll need some proof of that a little later on.” He placed a chaste kiss on Draco’s lips.

“Maybe,” the Slytherin replied teasingly. “Moving on to the next question: Would you rather marry someone who is kind but not really in love with you or marry someone who treats everyone else terribly and disrespectfully but totally adores you?”

“So my choices are ‘Mione or you?” Harry asked seriously. “Then ‘Mione would win, no contest.” Draco’s eyes grew wide in disbelief. Had he just been passed over for a Mudblood? _No...he must be joking!_

“Are you serious?” Harry looked at the wizard sitting in his lap.

“That’s my answer. I’d rather marry someone who is kind but not truly in love with me. Don’t get me wrong: if I can find the best of both worlds-kind and head over heals for me-I’d obviously choose that...but that wasn’t an option in the question. Why? You’d choose the other option?” Draco shrugged.

“In Pureblood families, they arrange marriages. Lucius loves me, but he’d die before he broke such a long standing tradition.”

Harry was stunned. He had so many questions he wanted to ask but the only word his mouth would form was, “Who?”

“Pansy. She treats everyone else like crap but she’s enamored with me and treats me as if I were made of gold. Once I push past the fact that I can’t stand her it’s not so bad really.” Draco looked down and began to play with the sleeve of his robes.

Harry lifted the blond’s eyes up to meet his and in a soft voice, said firmly, “You deserve to marry someone whom you love, too.” Draco, unable to say anything around the lump that was forming in his throat, only nodded, though he cast his eyes down again. Harry pulled the boy into a comforting hug. “I mean it, Draco. You deserve to be with someone who treats you like a king and who you want to treat the same way.”

“How do you do that?” he asked weakly.

“How do I do what?”

“Make me feel better with just a hug.” Harry smiled.

“I do that?” Draco nodded against Harry’s chest.

“Yes.” Harry squeezed the other boy gently. “Harry, kiss me?” Harry kissed the top of Draco’s head. The blond looked up into Harry’s emerald eyes. “No. Kiss me like you did earlier.” Draco’s voice was barely above a whisper but Harry knew a command when he heard one. He leaned forward and captured Draco’s lips in his own.

The kiss was simple and sweet. No tongues were battling for dominance no lips were being bruised. Both boys were content with feeling other’s lips pressed against his own.

Draco pulled away first. “What do you want from this?” Harry shook his head.

“No labels. If we just snog for the next year and a half, and nothing else, fine. But no labels. We’re...well I don’t know about ‘friends’ either but we’re definitely not enemies and that’s a lot more than I ever dared to hope for.”

“Being friends would make us targets.”

“Our last names are Malfoy and Potter. We’re already targets.”

“I meant for other Slytherin’s and supporters of Voldemort. Slytherin’s don’t like you but they don’t want to kill you right now, either.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Oh that makes me feel safe,” he spat sarcastically.

“But it’s the truth. Unless Voldemort specifically commands them-not their parents- to kill you, they’re content with reporting your every move to him and making your life miserable.”

“You’re the only Slytherin who made my life miserable. Aside from Snape and Riddle, that is.” Draco grinned. “Erm...I don’t think that’s really something to be proud of...” The Slytherin laughed.

“Maybe not for you. If you could go back in time, would you rather say or do one thing you never got to say or do or would you take back one thing you said or did?”

Harry thought for a moment, and then answered, ‘I’d have taken your hand in friendship in Madam Malkin’s before the beginning of first year.” Draco looked stunned.

“Really?” Harry nodded. “Why that? Why not something to save your parents or Sirius?”

“What could I have done to save my mum and dad? I was only fifteen months old. Sirius...I don’t know what one thing I could have done to save his life. Remember his gift? Then I’d have to use it, too. If I could go back and do _everything_ right that night I would. But that wasn’t your question. Which one would you choose?”

“I’d probably go back and not do or say something.” Harry nodded.

“Would you rather be forever homeless but free to roam the earth or live the life of luxury in a mansion that you could never leave?” Draco thought carefully.

“The life of luxury. I’ve already seen the parts of the world that I want to see...”

“But you couldn’t leave the house for anything...not to go on a date, not to walk in the gardens, not to go shopping!”

“My dates could come over, same thing with shopping. Why would I want to walk in the gardens?”

“That’d get boring. I’d rather be homeless. I can’t stand to be locked up in one place.”

“Where would you sleep?!” Harry shrugged.

“Hotels. The Burrow. The question says that I’d be homeless, not that I can’t stay at the homes of friends.”

“What about your stuff?” Harry looked at Draco a little shocked.

“All the stuff I own is in my trunk in The Tower...I’d shrink it.” The blond shook his head.

“No, I mean your bed, your desk, the rest of your wardrobe...”

“I’d be homeless-what good would a bed and desk do me? And beside, when did I get those things anyway? The Dursley’s most certainly aren’t going to give me anything.” The Slytherin looked shocked. “Why are you surprised? I told you about them.”

“Not really. You told me that they never abused you and they never told you about your parents or that you were a wizard. And that they’d have tried to take your money if they knew you had it...but they gave you the basic necessities, right?”

“To them, yes. I should have been grateful that they didn’t toss me out. My bedroom up until I came home from first year was the cupboard under the stairs. When I was there for summer holidays, they made me cook and clean for them. I worked in the garden a lot, too...” as an afterthought, Harry added, “At least Muggles don’t have gnomes.” He chuckled a little bit but when he looked up and saw the shocked look on Draco’s face, he stopped.

“That’s abuse, Harry!”

“No. I didn’t mind too much, really, even though they can never know that. I’m a really good cook now. The cleaning wasn’t great but it wasn’t too bad, either. At least when I was cleaning, they weren’t yelling.

“You...you said ‘except for Dudley’ last time. Who’s Dudley? What did you mean by that?”

“Dudley is my cousin whose width rivals Hagrid’s. I was his and his friends’ punching bag whenever they go bored or when they didn’t get what they wanted.” Harry shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?!” Draco roared. “Are you crazy?! Harry, it is a big deal! Dumbledore shouldn’t have made you stay there!”

“I had to!” Harry was frustrated. “I tried to tell Dumbledore that I didn’t want to stay there after I knew about Hogwarts! But no one could offer me the protection that my mum’s sister could! I know that everyone things that I’ve lived like a prince and I’m sorry to disappoint them but if I have any hope of _living_ through the summers to defeat Voldemort, then I _have_ to stay there for at least part of each summer!”

Draco’s mouth parted slightly in shock at being yelled at about such a topic by the normally calm and collected Harry. He wanted to take Harry by the shoulders and shake him but he refrained, knowing that it’d probably infuriate the Gryffindor even more. Instead, Draco touched his lips to Harry’s and mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

Harry took Draco’s bottom lip between his teeth and bit hard enough to elicit a hiss of pain from the blond. He then soothed it by dragging his tongue along the wounded spot and, finally, capturing it in a hard, bruising kiss. Draco let Harry dominate it, knowing it was his way of not blowing up at the blond any further.

Harry fisted Draco’s silky hair, pulling the Slytherin’s lips harder to his own. Draco whimpered softly. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, Harry pulled away. “I’m so sorry, Draco!” he panicked. “Are you okay? Merlin, I’m so sorry! I-“ Draco kissed Harry gently until he stopped trying to speak into the kiss.

“If I wasn’t okay,” he replied calmly after he broke the kiss, “I would have stopped you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? I really didn’t mean to hurt you! I was just so frustrated from thinking about all that and I-“ Draco cut Harry off by thrusting his now solid cock into Harry’s. Harry gasped.

Draco leaned into Harry’s ear and whispered, “I didn’t have that when you started your tirade about those awful Muggles.” He licked the shell of Harry’s ear and he felt the Gryffindor slump into him.

Draco wrapped his arms around the dark haired wizard’s shoulders and rubbed slow, soothing circles over his back. He planted kisses into Harry’s unruly hair and muttered, “It’s almost time for Snape to appear and as much as I’m enjoying this, I’ve endured all of his ribbing that I can handle without trying to hex him.” Harry smiled a bit and nodded. He gave the blond a final squeeze and reluctantly pulled away.

Draco stood up, but not before giving Harry a soft, lingering kiss. As he sat back down in his own seat, Draco asked, “What do we do tomorrow?”

“I don’t want to keep our friendship a secret,” he stated confidently, “but if you do, then I will.” Harry paused to think for a moment. “I don’t want to go back on our deal, even after tomorrow. What we say to each other stays between us. As for the snogging,” he chose his next words carefully, “I don’t kiss and tell. If you want to tell someone, that’s okay but I won’t confirm or deny any rumors that stem from it.”

Draco looked at Harry in awe. “When did you put so much thought into this?” Harry shrugged.

“I did it unconsciously, I guess.” Draco nodded his understanding.

“Having an open friendship is okay with me-it’s what I want, too-as long as you know that a few choice Slytherin’s are going to go out of their way to make your life hell.” Harry nodded. “I agree: what we say to each other stays between us. Don’t get me wrong. If you want to talk to your friends about the trivial stuff, that’s okay but the stuff about Lucius is to go to your grave.” Harry nodded again.

“Okay.”

“And I don’t kiss and tell, either. But just so you know: I will have to tell the Slytherin’s that I’m trying to gain your trust so that I can hand you over.”

“I understand. Just let me tell Ron, ‘Mione and Dumbledore before those rumors start to get out. I guess I’ll set up a meeting in Dumbledore’s office for after lunch tomorrow.”

“Can you do it before lunch? I have a History of Magic exam that I’d like an extra day to study for.” Harry looked at the blond quizzically.

“You want to be there?”

“You think that your friends will believe that you and I are friends and that you’re not under the Imperious without me being questioned under Veritaserum?” Harry chuckled.

“Touché. So we’re agreed then? No labels, no hiding the friendship, no blabbing secrets, no kissing and telling, and as far as the Slytherins and Voldemort are concerned, you’re going to turn me over to him as soon as I trust you implacably?” Draco nodded while holding his hand out to Harry. Without a moment’s hesitation and with a grin, Harry firmly took the blond’s hand and shook it.

As they dropped each other’s hand, they heard the side door open. “No show tonight, gentlemen?” The Potion’s Master smirked at the blush he caused. He handed his students their wands and watched them leave in a hurry. He wished he didn’t have to audibly monitor the boys each night. The sounds they made while snogging were not at the top of his “What Turns Me On The Most” list. The professor shook his head and turned in for the night. 

**Author's Notes: Okay so this site is now caught up with AFF.net (where my story was originally posted). I'm in the middle of writing the boys last detention and it shouldn't be too long before it's done and typed and posted. Maybe by Sunday? If you couldn't tell already, I write graphically-especially the delicious, hott boy on delicious hott boy sex scenes (which are my favorite to write!) so a warning to you all now: if this bothers you, then I suggest not reading my next chapter (or possibly the rest of my fic since a lot of it is just going to be one boy shagging the other sensless in empty classrooms and such *evil Malfoy-ish smirk*)  
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